Sleep With Your Eyes Open
by Katatonia
Summary: Pippin gets a nasty shock one evening and Aragorn doesn't help matters...whoever said Rangers were mature? Warning: mention of death but nothing explicit.


Naturally, these characters do not belong to me - I'm just borrowing them for a bit. Please remember, a good reader is a frequent reviewer!

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After Aragorn had appeared out of nowhere and relieved him of guard duty, Pippin moved across the campsite to his bedroll, trying not to disturb anyone along the way. Although, from the way Legolas' eyes were open, it seemed that he already…

Pippin backtracked and gazed down at the elf with something bordering on terror rising in him. Legolas was lying perfectly still, on his back, and with his eyes open. And he wasn't breathing – at least; not that Pippin could distinguish. With a whirl, he pounded over to the Hobbit area of the campsite, somehow managing not to wake anyone along the way.

"Merry." He whispered frantically, shaking his cousin's shoulder. "Merry!"

"Huh? What's that, Pip?"

"I think Legolas is dead!"

Merry sat bolt upright, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Quickly they both scrambled to their feet and made their way over to where the elf lay, stopping a few feet away.

"He's not breathing, Pip."

"I know."

"His eyes are open, Pip." Pippin rolled his own eyes. Sometimes Merry could be so annoying.

"I know! What are we going to do about it?"

Merry looked at him. "We tell Strider."

The two hobbits left their dead comrade and made their way to where Aragorn was sitting a little way off, smoking his pipe.

Aragorn, being a very good ranger, heard them coming when they were halfway there, even though Hobbits are naturally very quiet. He turned with a small smile on his face that faded when he saw their downcast expressions.

"What's wrong?" He asked, one hand going to his sword.

"Um, Strider…" Merry started.

"Legolas is dead!" Pippin cut in.

A very peculiar expression crossed Aragorn's face.

"Really." Both Hobbits nodded frantically, and Aragorn stood, moving back towards the campsite with the two of them following as quickly as they could.

Aragorn was kneeling over Legolas when the Hobbits reached the elf's side.

"You're right." Aragorn told them, one hand resting lightly on Legolas' chest. "Legolas is dead." A small sound echoed through the night, almost like someone was snickering. The Hobbits ignored it.

"But…"

"How…"

"I do not know, my friends." Aragorn said gravely. "It is possible that he succumbed to a particular disease around these parts that only affects elves."

This time the sound more resembled someone snorted in disgust and disbelief – and this time the Hobbits paid attention.

"What was that?" Merry asked as both of them whirled around, pulling out their short swords.

"Is it someone come to take Legolas?" Pippin said, scanning the darkness. Aragorn didn't answer.

"Well, Pip, they're going to have to go through us." Merry told him.

Aragorn started singing a very quiet, mournful song behind them. And a familiar voice hissed through the night.

"If you continue singing that lament over me, Aragorn son of Arathorn, I'll make you wish you were the one dead."

Both Hobbits glanced at each other in disbelief, and then they both turned slowly to face Aragorn, still with his hand resting lightly on Legolas' chest and the elf in question scrambled to sit up. They didn't ignore the fact that Aragorn was obviously having trouble hiding his laughter.

"It's a ghost!" Pippin muttered, moving back uneasily.

"I am not." Legolas said, knocking Aragorn's hand from his chest with a glare. "Neither am I dead."

"But…" Merry said, eyes very wide.

"Elves sleep with their eyes open." Legolas told them quietly. "And we lie very still." He was frowning ever so slightly, and he reached out, whopping Aragorn around the back of his head as the Man tried to control his snickers. "And YOU!"

Aragorn moved backwards slightly. Legolas very rarely got angry, but when he did he was scarily reminiscent of Elrond in one of his rages.

"How could you?" Legolas hissed quietly, hitting Aragorn again. "Making those two think that their comrade was dead!"

The Hobbits stood quietly as Legolas berated Aragorn – mostly quiet out of embarrassment, it must be admitted.

"'m very sorry, Legolas. Won't happen again."

"Of course it won't…because if it does, you'll be the one wishing that you had died." He glanced over at Merry and Pippin. "I think you should apologise."

The two Hobbits looked at Aragorn, half-pouting and as unsettled as they had ever seen him.

"I'm very sorry." He said, kneeling before them. "Could you forgive me?"

They exchanged a glance.

"Alright." Merry said.

"I suppose."

Legolas nodded, pleased with himself. "Good. Aragorn, go back to the guard-point. And we are never to mention this again."

Aragorn nodded, and moved off, fading into the darkness.

"I am sorry about that, little ones." Legolas said, turning to Merry and Pippin. "He had no right to do that. However, it was very brave of you to try to defend my 'dead' body." They brightened at this. "Now go back to sleep. I promise, neither Aragorn, nor myself shall ever mention this incident again."

"How can you be sure?" Pippin asked.

"Let us just say that I know some interesting stories about Aragorn's youth that I would be delighted to tell you if he opens his big mouth." The Hobbits grinned. "Good night. Enjoy whatever remains of your sleep." He made a shooing motion with his hand, and they moved off, back to their own area.

Once Legolas was sure the both of them were asleep – despite the excitement, they were both rather tired – he got silently to his feet, wrapping his heavy cloak around him.

"That wasn't very nice." He said quietly when he reached Aragorn, who jumped. Despite his innate Ranger-ness, Elves were a lot harder to track by noise than Hobbits.

"I know."

Legolas sat down beside his friend, who actually sounded contrite, and pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms and the cloak around him.

"You should be sleeping. It isn't your turn to guard for nearly another three hours." Aragorn said after a moment.

"I thought I'd keep you company."

"Thank you."

They sat in silence, but after a couple of minutes, Aragorn started shivering slightly. Legolas looked over at him.

"Are you cold?"

Aragorn turned slightly and grinned at him in the dark. "I don't have the Elvish capability to ignore all extremes of weather, if that's what you mean."

Legolas hesitated, then unwrapped the heavy, and big, cloak. "Come here." This time it was Aragorn's turn to hesitate, but Legolas just rolled his eyes. "Oh, just come here before I change my mind."

Aragorn moved over, and Legolas wrapped one half of the cloak around him. They huddled there, backs to the distant campfire, and soon Aragorn stopped shivering.

"You have to admit it was funny, though."

Legolas snorted. "It still wasn't nice." They glanced at each other quickly, and burst into silent laughter, leaning on each other. "Aragorn," Legolas said after a moment. "Don't ever sing a lament over me again."

"Okay…" Legolas waited for Aragorn's brain to catch up. "Hey! I'm a very good singer."

"Of course…" Legolas soothed. "Just don't ever sing in my hearing again." They looked at each other, but Aragorn couldn't stay indignant for long, and the muffled laughter soon started again.

The End


End file.
